


You Got It

by Solziv



Series: Art Trades, Collabs, Gifts & Requests [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Batjokes, Dancing, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Male Character, Grumpy Batman, Hip wiggling, Humor, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Reformed, Reformed Joker, Romance, Silly, WTF, a bit cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solziv/pseuds/Solziv
Summary: One bad night as Batman is completely turned around by Joker’s cheerful antics. One-shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melody1987](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melody1987/gifts).



> Happy birthday, melody1987! Hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy this story!

It was only after returning home, where the adrenaline had left his system, that Bruce realised just how exhausted he actually was. Another night prowling the rooftops of Gotham left him wrung-out and with very little patience. Most were trying, with at least one criminal being idiotic enough to perform some illegal activity, whilst knowing fully well that a certain caped vigilante would catch them, but this particular round of the city was hard on Wayne’s nerves.

Then again, it always was, when the Riddler decided on yet another “I’m smarter than you” challenge. This time, he kidnapped thirty Wayne Enterprises employees and strung them up as victims for his most elaborate traps yet – or so Nigma claimed.

Fortunately, Batman had been on top form, defeating the ambushes with ease and rescuing the innocents, without a single casualty. For all the effort put into creating the riddles, puzzle rooms and kidnapping people, merely to prove a point, the Dark Knight thought Eddie was getting sloppy – even saying so. As one could imagine, that did not go down well, as the rogue began ranting, but a quick and powerful left hook to the jaw silenced him and put an end to any more shenanigans.

For now, at least.

By the time Bruce had gone through the rigmarole of solving the riddles, navigating the traps, rescuing hostages, incapacitating the Riddler and having him shipped off to Arkham for the umpteenth time, and informing Gordon of the thirty traumatised employees that needed returning to their homes, it was already light and the billionaire had well and truly pushed himself beyond his limits.

He had no idea of the time, as he arrived in the Batcave and stripped off his armour, before heading upwards via the lift, although was honestly beyond caring at this point, simply wanting to fall into bed and make the world go away for at least eight hours.

Yet, upon entering the Manor proper, the sudden whiff of a scent caught his nostrils, causing his brow to furrow. Something was baking. Curiosity getting the better of him, he followed his nose. Perhaps Alfred was making breakfast.

As Wayne progressed through the hallway, he saw several lights had been switched on; the smell also grew stronger, meaning he was on the right track. Bizarrely, his journey was accompanied by the faint sound of music, although, from this distance, he couldn’t make sense of it.

He arrived at the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar, and rested his hand against the old wooden surface, before pushing with the entirety of his arm’s weight and stepping inside.

There were numerous images, ranging from ordinary, every-day activities, to worse-case scenarios and the sheer absurd (after what had happened over the years, Bruce thought it wise to rule _nothing_ out), running through his mind, but this was _something else_. Not the expected at all.

Firstly, he realised the scent originated from the oven he never touched and recognised it as belonging to waffles.

Secondly, he couldn’t recall the last time music played on the little portable radio sat on one of the counters, let alone hearing _You Got It_ by Roy Orbison.

Thirdly, Alfred was not cooking. As delirious as Bruce’s mind had become, there was no conceivable way to confuse his devoted and loyal butler with the chaos, bright colours and insane jollity that commonly accompanied the Joker.

That brought another thought to the Dark Knight’s mind. Regardless of being fully reformed and now calling Wayne Manor home, the former clown Prince of crime could still be manic and destructive; how on Earth had he convinced Pennyworth to be left alone to interact with anything involving fire?

 _Where is Alfred, anyway?_ Bruce briefly wondered.

Still, all of these things combined had far less impact on his psyche than the utterly distracting, bewildering and, frankly, _fascinating_ act of Joker singing and dancing to the music on the radio. Of course, the green-haired male did so plenty of times in the past (usually as a prologue to destruction), but never like this.

“Anything you want – you got it! Anything you need – you got it! Anything at _allll_ – you got it! _Baaaaaabyyyy_!”

The clown possessed a strangely tuneful voice, in key, in time, and surprisingly pleasant to hear. Wayne wondered if the former spent time imitating Roy Orbison’s distinctive style or if it simply came naturally. Whatever the case, it was uplifting and somewhat soothed the billionaire’s battered brain.

Random and exaggerated movements accompanied the music; Joker waved his arms here and there, sometimes as if with an invisible partner, spinning around the room with as much finesse as a ballerina. When he came to an eventual stop before the oven, to check the waffles, he began wiggling his lower body to the music, ranging from simple jerks of the hips to more snake-like movements.

Wayne found his blue eyes studying that area with certain interest.

When the clown span around, he came to face the dark-haired figure, seeing mingled fatigue, confusion and beguilement etched into the man’s features, so offered a smirk, wink and sing-song “good morning”, then returned to his antics.

Then, quite abruptly, Joker leant towards Bruce, their faces barely an inch apart, and serenaded, “I live…my life…to be…with _yoooouuuu_. No one…can do…the things…you _doooooo_!”

Those lyrics, coupled with Groucho-style eyebrow movements and a beaming, perfect smile, derailed the Dark Knight’s grumpy mood and filled the man with much-needed energy. He struggled to keep a neutral expression, although could not keep the corners of his lips from lifting. It was slight, but noticed – and all the incentive required.

“Dance with me, Brucie-boy!” the clown called, grasping one of the billionaire’s hands and gently pulling him onto the “dancefloor”. Unable to help himself playing along, Wayne placed his free hand on the man’s shoulder. He flinched ever so slightly at the touch of fingers at his hip, but soon relaxed. Together, they waltzed around the room.

“I’m glad…to give…my love…to you!” Joker sang, at the top of his voice. “I know…you feel…the way…I _dooooooo_!”

Bruce blinked, as he stared at the former criminal, a tad taken aback at hearing such words sung to him, although it didn’t keep him from enjoying the moment. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d genuinely felt this way. _Maybe I need more mornings like this._

They smiled and laughed together, totally lost in their merriment.

However, what neither man realised was that Alfred had heard the noise and arrived to investigate. Stood at the doorway, he observed with incredulity and amazement, although quickly gave a small shrug of the shoulders and thought it best to leave the pair to it.

Even as desperate as he was to point out that the waffles were now burning in the oven.

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun writing Batjokes. Not sure if I should apologise for the use of Roy Orbison in this way, ‘though… XD


End file.
